


Groovy

by bukkunkun



Series: Alternate [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Charles that's cheating, Multi, Science Project, Teenagers, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred swallowed, suddenly realising his mouth had gone dry. "… Man. I'm not sure if Mr. Xavier is a saint or my personal escort to hell." USUK AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Groovy

**Author's Note:**

> Moved here from LJ/FF.net. Prompt was: ScienceNerd!Alfred and PopularKid!Arthur

Unwavering blue eyes hidden behind opaque glasses stared down the note messily taped to his locker.

 

_NeRd! U fUckIng lOser!_

 

Another note, another day.

 

Alfred F. Jones tore the note off his locker and discarded it on the ground in a heartbeat, seemingly unfazed as he pulled his locker open—

 

Ah, so it had worked, he thought to himself dryly, glancing at the back of the door to find the heavy-duty duct tape he had put over the holes on the door from the inside had protected his locker’s insides from today’s assault. He peeled the tape off to find maple syrup sticking to it.

 

Silently, he replaced the tape (he had a roll of duct tape and a pair of scissors in his locker), before changing his books around in his bag, putting the ones he didn’t need inside the locker, the ones he needed into his bag.

 

“Move it, loser!” he heard the gruff voice of some bonehead senior sneer at him as his door slammed against his arm, making Alfred wince. He peered out at what was coming towards him—for seniors bulldozing a way through the corridor usually meant—

 

Oh, shit, _yes_.

 

Alfred’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw who it was walking down the hallway, tailed by three taller seniors—the beautiful, sharp-tongued, feisty-fierce Arthur Kirkland, resident Sexy Brit of his shit high school, school favourite and Alfred’s unfortunate love interest.

 

Unfortunate, meaning, Alfred’s has barely half a rat’s arse chance at getting Arthur to so much as _glance_ at him, let alone reciprocate his feelings.

 

They were talking, Arthur and his _friends_ (Alfred refused to think they _were_ friends—there is a fine line between _friend_ and _groupie_ , and frankly, Alfred thought they were more of the latter,), snarky laughter escaping Arthur’s full lips, green eyes sweeping left and right sexily like some Victoria’s Secret model trying to score some hot guy in the crowd to do him right then and there, on the catwalk that was the school’s corridor.

 

Now, _that_ was an idea.

 

Alfred’s cheeks flushed and quickly, he turned to face his locker to hide his oncoming blush and problem between his legs. Inwardly, he cursed his teenaged hormones and quietly as he could, he snuck away to class.

 

\---

 

Science class the both the best and the worst for Alfred, the best because he _loved_ science (his dream is to work at NASA, it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t become an astronaut, just _being_ there was colossal on its own) and because funnily enough, in his three years there at that shithole of a high school, he has shared this class with Arthur without fail. It’s the worst _because_ Arthur is in his class—all the more chances he may screw up in making an impression on his head-over-heels crush.

 

He shuffles quietly into the class and takes a seat on the second row—not _too_ close to the front to make himself look more like a nerd than he already does, but not too far away to miss out on whatever the teacher was talking about—next to his friend, a Japanese immigrant, Kiku Honda.

 

“Hey,” he said in greeting, taking a seat to the black-haired teen, who was busily tapping away at his PSP, most likely playing some silly porn-y game from his home country. Alfred glances at the tiny screen and sighs in relief—it’s a normal fighting game this time, thank God.

 

“Good morning,” Kiku greets, not looking up from up from the PSP. “It’s nice to be in this class with you again.”

 

“Yep.” Alfred nodded. “I hope we’ll be partners for the project again,” he said, leaning back on his seat, only to hear some bonehead sneer at him from the back.

 

“Yeah, so you two nerds can be two goody-two-shoes again and be the fuckin’ teacher’s pets again like the losers you are!”

 

Alfred’s hand curls into a fist and Kiku’s pries itself away from his PSP to grip his wrist, holding him back.

 

“It is not worth it,” Kiku quietly told him, finally looking at Alfred, before pointing at the door, as his other hand shut his PSP off. Alfred looked to the doorway to see a young blue-eyed brunette standing at the doorway, a stern expression on his face. A folder was tucked under his arm.

 

Oh. _He_ was the teacher?

 

“Now, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say,” he scolded, and Alfred realised he had a British accent. _Another Brit in my life. Swell._ Alfred dryly thought to himself as the brunette man walked up to the teen sitting at the back, left arm akimbo, holding onto the folder, whilst his right was raised, index finger pointed to reprimand. “Apologise to him, now.”

 

“What if I don’ want ta?” the teen scoffed at him, “You don’t look _anything_ like a teacher ta me.”

 

“Oh, really?” the brunette grinned wryly, bringing up his right hand to his temple to discreetly scratch it with two fingers. The teen’s eyes widened. “Mister… Brians,” the teen gaped at him. “Off to the principal’s office for you for misconduct against a teacher.” The grin on the brunette’s face widened slightly, “Oh, maybe I should toss in physical bullying as well for what you did to little Tommy Fisher earlier before the bell rang?”

 

The teen paled, and Alfred resisted the urge to laugh, snickering behind his hand. “Well, off you go,” the brunette teacher smiled down at him like one would to a small child. Quickly, he wrote something down on a sheet of memo paper he pulled out of his folder and handed it to the teen. “Or I’ll throw in an hour of detention, as well.”

 

Quickly, the teen got to his feet and scrambled to the door. The brunette sighed and shook his head, before making his way to the teacher’s desk and putting his folder down. He smiled at Alfred, his bright blue eyes warm and kind. “Are you alright?”

 

“… Never better.” Alfred slowly grinned, before turning to look at Kiku, who was also slightly smiling. “I think I’m going to like this guy,” he hissed at Kiku.

 

The black-haired teen nodded. “Yes. I think I’m going to like him too.” Somehow, the brunette teacher merely smiled and lowered his head to read the papers in his folder.

 

Soon the other students filed in—Arthur included, and Alfred’s heart soared, he knew they’d be in the same Science class again—and soon everyone was present, save for the boy the brunette teacher sent to the principal’s office.

 

“Well, are we all here then?” the brunette spoke up, looking up from his folder. A warm smile spread across his face, and Alfred heard the girls murmur about themselves, ‘he’s adorable!’ or ‘what a cutie! Look at his eyes!’ Ignoring them soundly, Alfred turned his attention to the brunette man in front.

 

“My name’s Charles Xavier.” The brunette smiled at them. “I’ll be your teacher for this year.”

 

 _Definitely_ interesting. Alfred grinned.

 

\---

 

“… And that’s it.” Charles’ smile was still there, never leaving his face ever since the beginning of the class, and for once, Alfred noted with wonder, there were no interruptions; save for when the student that came back from the principal’s room came back. For once, the class actually listened to what he had to say.

 

“Now, moving on to the topic you’ve all been thinking about,” he chuckled, pulling out a piece of paper from his folder. “I’ve got a list of topics for your year-long science project.”

 

“Year-long?!” someone cried out, and Charles lifted his hand to silence them, taking a seat.

 

“Yes, your science projects will take the entire year to do. Don’t worry, though, I’ve scheduled it out already for you guys so it’s not that heavy.” His smile was thoroughly reassuring, and Alfred vaguely wondered if he could be partners with Kiku again. Suddenly, Charles smiled at him knowingly, before resting his elbow on the table, two fingers up and touching his temple. “And another thing, _I’ll_ be doing the choosing for who your partners will be.”

 

The class broke out in utters and Charles shushed them all by simply placing his free index finger to his lips. “Now, let’s see…”

 

His blue eyes scanned the classroom.

 

“Karpusi,” he spoke up, and a brunette teen sleeping near the window jolted awake. Charles chuckled, before looking around again. “And… Honda.”

 

Kiku’s eyes widened like saucers and he looked at Alfred.

 

The two friends gaped at each other as Charles began pairing people together.

 

“Oh my god, you got Karpusi!” Alfred hissed delightedly, grabbing Kiku’s hands and shaking them as wildly as he could without catching too much attention. “It’s your lucky day!”

 

“I-I-I do not know how to handle this,” Kiku breathed, light-headed as a flush painted his usually pale cheeks red. “I-I-I…”

 

“And Jones.” Charles spoke up and Alfred snapped to attention. The brunette gave him a knowing smile and Alfred felt a strange sensation go down his spine. His head started spinning, and suddenly he felt lightheaded. He began to precariously sway on his seat, as Kiku looked at him with concern. “Your partner is Kirkland.”

 

Holy shit.

 

_Holy shit._

_Holy **freaking** shit._

 

Alfred’s mind went on overload and the next thing he knew, he was looking up at the ceiling of the clinic. He sat up, alarmed, and next to him, he heard a familiar voice let out a squeak of surprise. He groped for his glasses on the bedside table, and putting them on, he turned his head to see Charles sitting down on a chair next to his bed.

 

“M-Mr. Xavier?” Alfred stuttered, and the blue-eyed brunette sighed.

 

“I’m so, so very sorry, Alfred,” he apologised, “It seems I got too carried away.” His shoulders sunk and he gripped his knees. “I must have pushed your mind a little too hard.”

 

“… What?” Alfred blinked, and suddenly Charles jolted.

 

“I-I-I mean, sorry about that, uh, Arthur’s just outside, I’ll leave you two to talk about your topic, okay?”

 

“W-wait, what did you mean by—”

 

“Right, I have to go,” Charles quickly said, getting up, before dashing out of the clinic. As soon as he did, Arthur sauntered into the room, casting an uninterested glance at Alfred as he sat down on the chair Charles previously occupied.

 

“So.” Arthur spoke up, crossing one leg over the other. “You’re Jones.”

 

“Y-yeah.” Alfred nodded, trying to fight the oncoming blush attacking his cheeks. Arthur raised a(n unusually thick) eyebrow and eyed him warily. “U-uh, what’s our topic?”

 

“Genetics. Xavier’s pulling some bollocks of a joke on us.” Arthur scowled, before showing Alfred the piece of paper he had with him. “And we’re already supposed to be meeting up this weekend, says his timetable.”

 

 _Meeting up._ “L-like coming over to my place or something?” Alfred stuttered, hoping to heaven high his giddiness isn’t showing in his tone.

 

“… Hm. Alright.” Arthur dismissively says, waving his hand. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

 

It works, either that or Arthur doesn’t mind. The blonde stands up and heads for the door, and Alfred couldn’t help but stare at Arthur’s arse accented through his unusually tight pants. A flush dyes his face red, when suddenly Arthur turns his head to address Alfred over his shoulder.

 

“Catch you later.” Arthur huskily drawls, licking his full lips and winking, before walking out of the room, his hips swaying a little more than usual.

 

Alfred swallowed, suddenly realising his mouth had gone dry.

 

“… Man. I’m not sure if Mr. Xavier is a saint or my personal escort to hell.”


End file.
